Beyond Truth and Lies
by VGenesis
Summary: A few months after the conclusion of yu-gi-oh! gx season 4, a mysterious figure threatens to wipe out all professional duelists. Is it possible to stop them? If not, then it seems as if their generation might just be reponsible for the death of duelling.
1. Prologue

**Prologue **

The sun was burning brightly as the brown haired boy stumbled slowly down the crowded market street. After a few failed attempts, he finally managed to tune out the ceaseless cries of "ripe bananas" and "juicy apples" till they became no more than a distant buzz. That was better, now he could concentrate.

Over the past two weeks a series of kidnappings had struck the town, however, as such events were hardly regarded as unprecedented in the city of Domino, Pierce Guinea was pretty sure that the people around him were more worried about attracting customers in the fierce heat than the three duelists who had recently vanished. Damn. Now he was back onto the heat again, once more feeling the sun's cruel fingers burning into his unprotected skin, trying to weary him past endurance. He rubbed his eyes wearily as he opened the newspaper in his hand, trying to quench the small bubble of hope in his heart and the nagging feeling that he was missing something both obvious and vital.

The white of the paper burned his eyes as it became dazzling in the fierce sun – blinding him. "Elizabeth Crow, Andy Price, Jenny Lawson" those were the names that were glaring out from the front page, those were the names that were etched into his mind as he forced himself to concentrate on them so that he could find the pattern he knew connected them. "Nancy Crow, Andy Price, Jenny Lawson, Pierce Guinea." Now why did that sound right? He folded the newspaper, rubbed his temples wearily and turned his head towards the tired wind. He flinched as he felt grains of sand enter his eyes. He rubbed them, feeling decidedly jaded - even the weather was conspiring against him.

It was then he noticed a babble of men coming out of a nearby pub and, if the volume and atonal nature of their singing were any indication, they were most definitely drunk. He sighed, feeling obliged to take the rather obscure detour that led back to his apartment where he knew Tom would be waiting for him. Nevertheless, just a few roads into his detour he was brought to a rather abrupt halt.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid you can't come down here," explained a rather sleepy looking policeman, his wispy white hair sparkling in the sunlight, "We've had a series of phone calls complaining of a rather deep pothole so the road is temporarily closed for maintenance." Pierce felt his face fold into an alien scowl as he turned to walk resignedly down a rather unfamiliar road which he hoped would lead him around the road he had originally intended to use. Next his face puckered in sheer disbelief as he saw a host of fangirls gossiping loudly, each one holding a framed photograph of himself and squealing in nervous anticipation. This was unbelievable. Confused, irate and really rather drained, he ducked into an old alleyway and started striding towards the white light he could see at the alley's end.

Suddenly he heard a sharp snap and the white light faded into deep purple and the darkness around him immediately seemed more intense. It seemed to not only surround him but to suffocate him. By the time he noticed a hooded figure swathed in that strange, purple light he was gasping for breath. The figure glided towards him effortlessly. "You're two minutes late. I thought you'd never arrive. I knew my careful planning would lead you here eventually but I suppose I hadn't factored in your weariness. Oh well, you're here now so the fun can finally begin."

It was then he noticed a duel disk on his tormenter's arm. However, it was a duel disk unlike any he had seen before. "Who are you? What do you want? Why me?"

"You amateurs are so boring! Always the same, dull questions!" Extending her arm slightly, Pierce heard the duel disk activate and he felt a thrill of dread run down his spine. He was betting that she knew as well as he did that he got by mostly on his good looks and the many fangirls that entailed as opposed to true duelling talent. True, he wasn't at the bottom of the amateur table, that place belonged to the adorable Betty, but he knew he would never be able to hold his own against a duelist with real skill.

He tried his most charming smile, "Maybe we can talk about this." Though he couldn't see it, the figure responded with a smile just as dazzling as his own, only more sincere,

"And maybe we can't. Now draw!"

It was approaching dusk and Mike Fletcher was feeling slightly queasy. His flatmate never came home this late. In fact, he always came home straight after an important duel so that the two of them could go out for pizza – he was like that, methodical. What made matters even worse were the horrid disappearances and the faces of the missing duelists that seemed to stare out at him from the front page of the newspaper. As purple turned to black Tom felt his fist clench and the realization he was trying to resist finally dawned on him – it was over – Pierce was never coming back.


	2. Encounter

Chapter 1 – Encounter

Trevor smiled as he crept quietly through the specifically chosen pitch-black night. The stars, obscured by a mass of cloud, put in no appearance, which resulted in the dark taking on a strange intensity like a mass of heavy blankets. This worked in Trevor's favour as the depth of the darkness seemed to absorb his quiet movements and shield him from prying eyes. As he reached his target his eyes lit up – good, the shop was empty.

Opening his eyes as wide as it was physically possible, he spent a couple of minutes observing the building, despite the fact that his view being incessantly interrupted by long strands of his vivid orange hair. It was as he was seriously considering buying some sort of hair clip that he noticed a flicker of movement in one of the upper windows, movement soon followed by a flicker of white light. Trevor felt a sort of hollowness as he realised what this would mean. Confrontation.

He willed his legs to move forward and, after a few moments coaxing, they decided to obey him. Gathering all his strength, he picked the lock on the door and sidled into the almost deserted game shop. Almost deserted as his plan to lure the old man out of his nest had failed and, as a result, he was going to have to take care of him. Moving silently over to the display cases he started picking yet more locks, however, these were more difficult. He laughed silently to himself "So the old man doesn't mind if you rob him of all his earthly possessions or even decide to kidnap him, just so long as you don't steal his precious trading cards." He breathed a sigh of relief as he slid away the pane of clear glass atop the display case – it was safe…or so he thought. Only as he plunged his hand into the case did the deafening alarm go off. "Darn it all" He complained to himself. "So close."

As the lights in the room flickered on he pulled the sharpest item he possessed from his toolkit and wrapped a cloth around the handle so the murder weapon wouldn't be traced directly to him. Nevertheless, as the old man doddered forward he felt his resolve waver; the poor guy looked so frail and helpless in his one-piece pyjama suit with his purple eyes heavy from sleep. No! He was not going to let this old man stop him from achieving his goal…his destiny. This card shop contained some of the rarest cards in the world, cards people travelled all the way to Domino City just to witness. He'd even heard a rumour that it possessed a Blue Eyes White Dragon card! Such a card was surely worth getting his hands a little dirty. So it was thinking of this precious card and gripping what was left of his fading resolve that he finally brought himself to lunge at the old man who, strangely enough, continued to stare owl-like at him in the too bright white light. The man's large, purple eyes stared curiously at Trevor as he brought the weapon down over his head. However, just as the weapon was about to connect, Trevor felt a force as powerful as a small explosion push him off his feet.

"Gaaaah" Trevor cried, as he fell into a rather undignified position at the feet of the old man. He felt his orange eyes widen as another man strode confidently into his sight, ascertaining the well-being of the old man in a deep voice. On closer inspection it appeared that it wasn't a man at all but a tall youth with wavy black hair and serious brown eyes. Seeing the brown eyes connect with his own he felt a surge of fear as he heard that commanding, deep voice instruct him to stay where he was. But that wasn't the strange part. The strange part was that the voice sounded only in his head while his ears where still ringing from the sound of the blast. Panic gripped him in its suffocating grasp. "First sign of madness, hearing voices in your head. No, wait, that's talking to yourself. Whatever it is, I'm sure it's pretty high up on the list!" As this newly heightened sense of terror threatened to consume him, it was if rational thought decided to abandon him. "Ahhhhhhhh" he screamed and launched himself at the dark haired stranger.

"Careful sonny" cautioned the old man, but the stranger needed no such warning. Within the same second a dark blue shield was shimmering around him, preventing Trevor from coming any closer. At least, it should have, had Trevor been in his right mind. As it was, his overwhelming feelings of rage and fear caused all rational thought to desert him, resulting in his vision being consumed by a bright red light and him crashing headlong into the shield. From the expression on his face it was obviously a rather unpleasant experience. With great force he was thrown back against the shop wall where he decided to remain, slumped and trembling. Moving purposefully towards him, the stranger confronted the frustrated and rather terrified Trevor.

"Why are you here?" asked Phillip. Trevor twisted his hands into his vibrant orange hair and curled himself tightly into a ball,

"Why can I hear your voice in my head? What was that strange blue light? What are you going to do to me?" Trevor inquired of the man. Phil sighed, he hated being asked so many questions, preferring to leave straight away whenever possible. However, now was not one of those times. Sighing, he decided to call on another part of his power, the power to read minds. However, as he could only glean that which was at the forefront of one's mind, it was, at this moment in time, less than helpful. The only thoughts swirling around in this man's vacant brain were mostly incoherent and could have been easily deduced from the look of pure horror visible on his face. Oh well, it looked like his option only left was the old fashioned method. Questions.

As the tall, dark stranger approached, Trevor felt himself cower in fear, expecting the man's glistening shield to force him away again. This was not the case. As Phillip walked forward the shield seemed to evaporate until it was nothing more than a few blue glimmers. He looked down into Trevor's orange eyes, eyes which had been enlarged by his intense dread. Once again that deep voice penetrated his mind, "Why are you stealing cards?" Trevor trembled yet more intensely as he began to mutter his story, stumbling hesitantly over his words as he reached its climax.

"…So I broke into this game shop in the hope of acquiring the rare cards I need to finally reach the amateur league."

"So you thought stealing was the right choice?"

Trevor averted his eyes sheepishly, "The cards I need to get become a professional duelist are a little out of my budget."

"You say you _need_ these cards to become a pro but that's not the case. It's not the rarity of the card that dictates its usefulness, it's how you choose to play it. I know someone who can help you play the cards you have as opposed to just using them." With that he handed him a small white card which displayed just a name and a number. Then Phillip left the shop. Just as a small, brown haired girl entered.

As Phillip walked away his thoughts dwelled on Damon Jenkins, the name on the card. Only six months ago he had found Damon robbing a young girl in a deserted alleyway. He had used his powers to stop the man and soon discovered the reason behind his aggression. His partial telepathy aided his skill of quickly determining the motivation of the people he met. Like Trevor, Damon too was a failed duelist; however, Phillip had soon used his many contacts to obtain a place for him at the prestigious and highly sought after Duel Academy. Now Damon owed him a favour. That was how it worked.

As soon as the sky turned from black to orange to blue, Trevor decided it was finally a decent time to test the number he had been given. As unlikely as it was that the number of such a famous duelist had just been handed to him, he had nothing to lose by trying it. As soon as the phone had started to ring, his heart began to pound ferociously and, by the time it had rung three times, his heart was pounding so loudly that he was worried it might prevent him from hearing the duelist he was about to greet. And what exactly was he going to say? 'Hello. My name is Trevor. Well, I was robbing an old man's game shop last night when this tall, dark haired guy stopped me, gave me some good advice, handed me your number and left. That's pretty much why I'm ringing you now. You know, cause he was kinda scary and I felt it wouldn't be wise to not do what he said to do.' Great. All he needed was to add in the strange blue power and the voices in his head and he could forget about a future in duelling. Instead his future would be decided for him – one spent in a mental asylum. Suddenly the ringing stopped and Trevor gathered all his strength once more, "Hello. My name is…" However, a deep voice cut him off."

"You have reached Damon Jenkins, duelist extraordinaire. Please leave your name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as my busy schedule permits. Keeeeep duellin'!"

Trevor couldn't help but smile as he heard the duelist's famous catchphrase. The thought that he might actually be able to meet him was simply amazing, too amazing. What if it was all a joke, a trick? What if…with great effort Trevor tried to prevent his thoughts from going in this general direction. He failed. All the same, he couldn't help but trust the tall mysterious stranger with the deep voice and wise words. True, the way he spoke reminded him a bit of those cheesy fortune cookie messages but still, there was something undeniably trustable about him and, as much as he tried to suppress it, Trevor couldn't help but feel hopeful. That was, until he saw the newspaper headlines. Damon Jenkins had vanished last night.

Standing in the shade of a purple shop awning, Trevor scanned the headlines of every newspaper displayed. "Star duelist's devastating disappearance" screamed one headline, "Keep searching – police on the hunt for the newest missing duelist". Feeling his heart sink, Trevor decided to buy a newspaper. Perhaps the police had a new lead. Perhaps he was expected to be found really soon. Reading the paper he felt his stomach clench with disappointment. The disappearance of Damon Jenkins was just one in a series of disappearances which had started five days ago. He had been escorted everywhere since the amateur duelists had started going missing and so it was with an escort of no less than five guards that he had travelled to the park last night to meet some friends of his. Nevertheless, according to his friends, a figure had greeted them on arrival, announcing itself to be the "Phantom Monarch" then, amidst tall purple flames, duel monster spirits had grabbed them and held them tightly until Damon Jenkins and been defeated. Once the flames had fallen away, both the Phantom Monarch and Damon had disappeared.

Naturally, the newspaper claimed that they had probably been given hallucinogenic drugs to aid in the creation of such visions but Trevor wasn't so sure. Looking at the time the crime had been reported he was shocked to discover it was one o'clock in the morning, just one hour after his attempted robbery. This shock was further enhanced by the realisation that the park in question was just a few minutes walk from the card shop where he had been caught. Trevor's brow furrowed in horror, surely his wise deliverer could not have been the culprit? Then again, how many people could create strange, coloured fire? "NO!" Trevor thought to himself. That man just saved me from doing something I would definitely regret, not to mention a hefty prison sentence as well as putting me on the path towards my dream. There is no way I'm turning him in. Besides, Trevor smiled wryly, that would be pretty impossible anyway, "Er, Mr Policeman, I don't know a guy who can create purple flames but I do know someone who can create blue ones! A description? I don't really know much about him, you see I met him when I was attempted to rob Mr Moto's famous card store so I wasn't really looking at his face." Walking away from the newsstand and squinting against the fierce white light, Trevor walked back towards his house, deciding to keep last night's activities to himself.


	3. Hero

Chapter 2 – Hero

The dazzling spotlight blazed in the darkened arena, illuminating two figures standing in the steel cage. One of these figures was rather short with a wide, smiling face which, more often than not, wore a sinister smile – one which promised ominous misfortunes to all those who beheld it. The other figure was much taller, draped in a black cloak, face obscured by a parchment coloured mask riddled with strange, black patterns. When this figure spoke, the voice was mechanical, as if altered by some sort of electronic device. From the large crowd

There rose a great cheer as introductions were finally made.

"In the left corner we have the man who always duels with a smile on his face, the strangely sinister yet surely stupendous Lumos! And in the right we have the duelist who, despite joining us only a little while ago, has won no less than ten straight matches and threatens to win our upcoming championship, the duelist who always wears a mask – the Dark Enigma!" With this, both figures activated their duel disks and the cheers of the crowd reached intense levels as they roared their support for the two duelists, both of whom were expected to squander their pride for cheap sport.

"I'll begin!" cried Lumos, drawing his sixth card with a flourish. "I think I'll summon Smile Angel and set two cards face down. Now I end my first turn."

The Dark Enigma now looked up, "I think you mean your last turn because this duel is over."

"What are you talking about? If you're so confident than you can just attack me!" Lumos was feeling hugely pleased with himself. Not only did his angel have 1800 points but with Mirror Force (a card which destroys all attack position monsters) and Magic Cylinders (a card which reflects one attack back towards the opponent) he believed his victory to be all but assured. After all, his opponent would have to have one hell of a combo to beat his monster and face down cards.

"If you're so anxious to lose then I'll happily end this duel right now. First I activate Heavy Storm to destroy all your spell and trap cards, now I play the spell card Call of the Mummy which enables me to summon any zombie type monster from my hand, providing my field is empty. Now, who to choose? Decisions, decisions. Ah, I believe I have the perfect candidate – my Red Ogre. A monster with 2800 attack points! Now, don't forget, as that's only a special summon, I still have my normal summon to bring out my good friend Paladin of the Cursed Dragon! Now, prepare to taste defeat!"

"Wait a moment, your Paladin only has 1900 attack points, so I'm safe for the moment."

"That's because I haven't activated my final two cards – Axe of Despair and Black Pendant. Together these raise the attack points of my dear ogre by a total of 1500 points. Now I have more than enough to destroy both your monster and your life points. Paladin, Red Ogre – attack! There was a deafening bang as the attacks collided with their targets and a scream as Lumos realised that he had been defeated in one turn. As his life point meter dropped from 4000 to 0 in a matter of seconds he fell to his knees and began sobbing, "This is so humiliating – how can this be happening? What did I do wrong?"

Though he couldn't see it, the Dark Enigma smiled at these words. "What did you do wrong? Why, challenge me, of course! Nobody defeats me….ever." Suddenly her smile vanished. Well, almost never, besides that was ancient history. So much had happened since that terrible incident that it wasn't worth contemplating any longer. She was to purge her memory of it and move on with her life.

Walking away from the cage, she felt the crowd booing the loser, calling out all sorts of profanities at the man who had denied them the enjoyable evening they had counted on. They had come to witness an evening of trash talk and aggressive duelling – as for the skill of the duelling; they expected no more than mediocrity. Tonight's events had been completely unexpected and they were not amused. Gathering her winnings as quickly as possible, she decided to take her leave of the increasingly restless stadium and hurried out into the purple night.

When she was satisfied that the steel cage and seedy spectators were far away, she finally felt free to remove her mask. Breathing a sigh of relief, she tilted her heads upwards into the clear night, fast turning from light violet to deep red. Storing her mask in her bag, she decided to throw caution to the winds and remove her hood as well. After all, as much as she loved her disguise, it did leave her with the slightly disconcerting feeling of being smothered.

Feeling the wind blow throw her wavy, black hair, she stared blindly into her surroundings – strange. Whenever she removed her mask she always experienced the same, intense feeling of liberation and joy. She had originally thought that time would bring an end to such unprecedented and unexplained feelings but it seemed that these illogical feelings persisted. Screwing up her brows in thought, Izzy couldn't help but sigh. If there was anything she hated, it was a mystery.

Lost in her own thoughts, Izzy watched the sky lighten from red to orange and then darken from orange to black. Strange, she thought, everything changed so quickly, it seems to have missed out blue. The black night was soon peppered with stars and she was forced to look away. Seeing the stars reminded her too much of the friends she had left behind, no, the friends she had been forced to leave behind. She sighed a bitter sigh. Her brother was so lucky. He had it all – power, friends, fun, not to mention being the family favourite. Now he was to inherit the company so she might as well as add considerable wealth to the list.

She had always believed in the law of averages, the belief that good fortune and misfortune were balanced out throughout one's life. Thus a run of good luck would be followed by some ill fortune or bad luck would eventually give way to great joy, however, it seemed that the President of the Immortals had heard her explain this view to her friends and deigned to prove her wrong. Her terrible fate had forced her to choose between a life of misery spent with those dearest to her and a life of power and fame spent alone. Naturally, her competitive nature and pathological egotism had made the former impossible and that left her with only the second option.

Life would have been so much easier if all had gone as she had initially planned. Entering the sixth form of the prestigious business school her father had chosen for her had meant that she could create a new persona, an antisocial, hostile, aggressive persona which would ensure she would be left alone. That way, when she ran away the next year, no would try to look for her and nobody would care. Sure, her family would cast her off, but at least she would have no friends to hurt. For a while it had worked. For a while it had all worked so well. After ignoring all the preliminary attempts at friendship and rebuffing all those who approached her, people more or less accepted that she was a loner, a cold fish, and deserved to be branded a social outcast. However, this had all changed after the dreadful English Lit incident.

Not two months into her first term she had been asked by her English teacher to read from page 87 of a very dull novel. She had always loved reading but her school was extremely strict and therefore had the very strange habit of using tipex to remove passages they believed to be "inappropriate to the proper development of young women". As a result, when she had read the erotically suggestive passage from her book, the class had erupted into uncontrollable laughter.

At first she hadn't heard her teacher's instructions to stop over the increasing volume of her classmates cackles and, consequently, it was almost a whole paragraph before she finally realised what she had been reading – a passage that had clearly escaped the censorship her school had so rigidly imposed. One minute she staring in horror at the book and the next she had flung her head back and was howling with laughter. It wasn't normal laughter but the slightly hysterical laughter or someone who had been repressing their true, lively nature for much too long. Before the day was out she had made friends with everyone in her English class and by the year she had established at least three solid friendships.

Izzy had originally thought of telling her best friend her plans, but every time she had thought about it she had begun to feel slightly nauseous. The very idea of what she was going to do terrified her and she was sure that her equally sheltered friend would feel just as horrified – if not more so. That was why she had left without telling anybody, even though it had physically pained her with every step she took that led her away from the only place she had been truly happy.

Suddenly, she caught a dark flicker in the corner of her eye, one which wrenched her away from her thoughts. Just as well, she thought to herself, I was getting dangerously nostalgic. This is just what to distract myself. A quick glance was all she needed to recognise him. Gavin was one of Phillip's few failures, that was why her brother had told her about him. Normally they didn't really speak much unless it was absolutely necessary; however, the shock of failure had led Phillip to confide in his sister in a way he never had before. It was two years ago, on her sixteenth birthday that she first heard about Gavin.

Phillip, who was fourteen at the time, had just made contact with a stalker and had successfully persuaded him to change his ways – or so he thought. However, he had been sadly mistaken. Within just two weeks this old man had reverted to his former ways. Nevertheless, despite the failure, Phillip stayed strong. When she had questioned him about this he had simply said that he had given the man a choice and therefore, when he prevented Gavin in the future, he would have no qualms about using as much force as necessary. Thinking of Phillip made her spring into action. Putting on her cloak and mask once more, she activated her duel disk.

Within seconds a tall, orange haired lady stepped out of the shadows and into the light. Her body armour glistened and her green eyes were menacing. Both Gavin and the unsuspecting brunette turned to stare at her and she began to speak. "So, you still enjoy stalking people, do you?"

The girl looked horrified, however, the man merely sneered. "I dunno know who the hell you are, but I think ya better leave right now."

The girl looked at him with undisguised disgust and contempt on her face, "You're the one who should leave. I highly doubt that this young lady desires _your_ company."

The man snarled, "If you want me ta move, than ya gonna have ta make me."

"Very well" And with those words, she raised the sword above her head and struck him with a fierce blow. Head ringing, the man stumbled into the bushes, cursing loudly.

"Wash your mouth" she said coldly, and then proceeded to strike him once more with the flat side of the blade. Whimpering like a dog, the old man turned tail and fled.

It was then the brunette was finally able to compose herself. Her expression changed from one of horror to one of the utmost gratitude,

"I don't know who are either, but I won't let that stop me from offering you my heartfelt gratitude, stranger." She turned to smile at her hero, however, she was gone. Stepping into the shadows she peered through the bushes, but there was nothing to be seen amidst the tall grass except the wild flowers that adorned it like jewels. "That was extremely strange." She thought to herself. Closing her eyes she sighed her thanks once more, "Thank you my knight, wherever you are."


End file.
